


Bartender vs. Therapist

by Green_essential



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Disney's House of Mouse (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bartenders, Disney villains - Freeform, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Maybe Romance, Multi, Other, Slow Burn, Some angst, just a little
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28663938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_essential/pseuds/Green_essential
Summary: Bartender vs. Therapist. Was there even much of a difference? Elena Martin had dealt with drunks and listened to inebriated patrons for a long time, but being the main supplier of alcohol to an entire group of villains was bound to be interesting. *Slightly* more adult version involving everyone's favorites and my OC. Possible romance, haven't really decided yet.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> This is an experimental prologue; let me know if it's something you'd like to see continued!
> 
> Just an FYI: this will be kind of an older, darker version of Disney. It's T for now, but if you guys do want it continued, the rating might get bumped up for subject matter and language.

Life wasn't fair.

The saying wasn't new to her. It wasn't shocking, infuriating, or mind-bending in anyway. It was something she'd understood her entire life, even before she could remember. It was also something her father had spat at her when one of his poor choices had cost their family safety and security for the umpteenth time. Because she'd learned that was his version of an apology.

_"Life isn't fair, El. If you don't learn that lesson now, then you'll have nothing but disappointment."_

And Elena Iris Martin did learn that lesson. Time and time again, through a harsh, abusive, disappointing childhood. She learned that lesson when her father killed her and her brother's dog when they were six. She'd learned that lesson when his gambling addiction forced them out of their home and to a brand new state when she was in middle school, costing her the only home she'd ever truly loved and her brother a chance at the swimming team. She'd learned that lesson when she tore her ACL and lost all hope of her gymnastics scholarship for school. And, finally, she'd learned that lesson when her father had kicked her and her brother out of the house when they were sixteen.

Jason Gideon Martin, to his credit, had always been the more optimistic twin. Born an agonizing twenty-three minutes after his sister, he fulfilled his role of the charming little brother very well. He did his best to mend his relationship with his mother, and tried to persuade Elena to do the same. He'd made the best of their situation upon being thrown out onto the street; it was his idea to use the last of their shared funds to buy a car, which became their permanent living arrangements until their seventeenth birthday.

And his biggest sacrifice: he'd joined the military the second he got his GED.

Elena had begged him not to. _Stop trying to be a hero, Jay. You're not a great brother anymore if you die,_ she'd told him in fury. But even she could not deny how dire things were for them. They were cold, hungry, and the car was slowly giving out. She'd just been fired from her job at Old Navy, and things were looking particularly bleak. As hard as she begged, a part of her knew they didn't have many other options.

So, yeah. Life wasn't fair. And now, over five years later, they still weren't.

Elena didn't want a second job. She didn't have the energy for a second job. She spent long days as a gymnastics instructor, preparing young women for competitions and meets. As one of only three coaches left in the gym she worked at, it was a hard job and gave her enough blood pressure issues as it was. But that didn't change the fact that she was behind on almost every bill she had. Her water and electricity were dangerously close to being shut off for the third time, her gas already had been. Sure, she was mostly up to date on rent, but she definitely wasn't on the ever-growing credit card bill that seemed to ruin her life every month.

So, when she saw the House of Mouse needed a bartender, she jumped on it.

It wasn't like she wanted to have the job, not really. Crossing into Disney was something she'd avoided her entire life, mostly because of how nauseating trans-dimensional travel could be. Her friends in high school bounced back and forth all the time, telling her how absolutely wonderful and exciting it was to visit the world filled with princesses, knights, and happy endings. Maybe that was why she hated it; she knew happy endings started and ended on that side of the world. At least for her.

But she had experience, both at the bar and as a waitress, and she knew that bartenders got tipped extremely well. It was exactly the kind of extra spending money she needed.

The job, however, appeared to come with some warnings.

_"Have ya ever worked in Disney, Miss Martin?"_

She was currently on the phone with the owner of the club, Mr. Mouse, was conducting her interview over the phone. Elena could tell he was equally desperate for the position to be filled, because he hadn't asked her too many deep questions. Which kind of weirded her out; for all he knew, she could be a serial killer.

"Well, no, I can't say I have." She answered hesitantly, unsure of where he was going.

_"So that means you've never worked with villains?"_

Ah, that's right. The villains. She'd never worked with them personally, but she could only guess that they'd be their own challenge.

"Well… no, but-"

_"I'm not going to withhold the job from you, Miss Martin, but I feel I should warn you that they will be your most frequent customers. Most of them are there almost every night, and once they become, er, inebriated they start to become harder to handle than usual."_

It was a fair warning, and she appreciated it. But it wasn't even a job Elena would normally want, and she as absolutely desperate. So, she swallowed her pride and pushed her shoulders back. Even though she was alone in her kitchen and he couldn't see her.

"Don't worry, Mr. Mouse. I've worked in the nightclub industry before; I've dealt with some pretty violent drunks. I'm not completely unprepared."

There was a hesitant pause on the end, and Elena got the strongest feeling that the mouse was sending up a prayer for her well-being. Probably asking God to bless this poor dumb girl that was so desperate for income she was willingly putting herself in harm's way.

But desperation was strong.

_"Well, alright. If you think you can handle it, who am I to stop ya?"_

A sigh of relief exited her chest, and her face broke out into a blinding grin. "Thank you so much, Mr. Mouse! I can't tell you how much I appreciate this!"

_"Aw, come on, don't call me Mr. Mouse! That was my father; you can just call me Mickey. You have the address of the club right?"_

"Yes, I have it right here."

_"Great! Go ahead and meet me here at five o'clock on Friday; I'll have the waiter that's currently bartending give you some directions."_

A few minutes later, after she hung up, Elena felt something in her stomach. Like that time she signed up for three college classes in school all at once. Like she may have bitten off more than she could chew.

But then her eyes fell on the pile of bills glaring at her from her kitchen counter, and she shook her head before walking off towards her room.

This job couldn't be worse than starving to death in the dark and cold.

Could it?


	2. FIRST DAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elena Martin played/voiced by Phoebe Tonkin  
> Jason Martin played/voiced by Chris Evans  
> Maria Martin played/voiced by Ana de Armas

* * *

_"Seriously, El? A bartender?"_

Standing in her kitchen, with a spaghetti-sauce covered spoon in one hand and her cellphone in the other, Elena rolled her eyes. She shifted the phone to her shoulder, cradling it to her cheek, as she stirred the red liquid.

"Look, Jay, I don't want you to take this the wrong way; but I don't think you can judge me on 'safe' career choices."

A female voice laughed in the background, then said something Elena couldn't make out.

_"Shut up, Maria."_ Her twin teasingly told his wife, then returned to the phone. _"El, why can't you just move out here and-"_

"No." She interrupted him before he could finish his sentence, voice harder than the stainless-steel pot in front of her. "I already told you, Jay, I'm not moving back there."

_"Come on, you won't even have to talk to mom. And besides, it wouldn't be for her. It's for_ me. _"_

The brunette rolled her eyes at her younger brothers attempt to use his puppy-dog voice to convince her and turned off her stove, lifting the pan to pour the steaming sauce all over the pile of spaghetti on her plate.

"Anyway," she quickly diverged the conversation, "bartender's get tipped great and I need the extra money. And besides, I'm the older sister. It should be me offering to help you out."

_"You're only older by like, twenty minutes."_

"Twenty- _three_ minutes, actually. Which means I have, at all times, almost a full half-hour more of experience than you."

_"Well, then, you should be smart enough to know this is a horrible idea. I mean, Toon Town is cool and all, El, but_ villains? _Are you sure you want that stress?"_

"How the hell are they any different than the drunk jerks I dealt with at my last job?"

_"For one, at least half of them have magic powers."_

Elena winced just slightly. Jason had a point; it was something she'd considered. But it was too late, she'd already accepted the job and tonight would be her first day on the job as well as the beginning of her training there.

But Elena had never been one to admit she was wrong out loud, and she wasn't going to start now.

* * *

The sun was slowly setting behind Elena as she exited her apartment and started for the bridge. Her bag thumped against her leg, seeming to match with her pounding heart as she got closer and closer to her destination. She was anticipating the nausea and the slight dizziness that followed trans-dimensional travel, and she was anticipating the shock that came with seeing herself as a toon.

But that was all she could anticipate.

How could she prepare for this? I mean, she knew what to expect job wise. Drunken patrons, grabby older men, some crappy tips and sore feet. But how could she anticipate the _people_ she'd be serving? Were these new customers really that different from the others she served, aside from the way they dressed and spoke?

One could argue all depressed, drunk people at bars were somehow the same in certain aspects.

But that wasn't what she needed to focus on. Right now, what she needed to focus on was doing well at her job so she could keep it and continue to pay her way through life. Once she was finally able to graduate with her associates next semester, she could move on to a slightly more glamorous job that required more money (and hopefully less vomit).

There it was; the bridge. It was completely abandoned, as travel to Disney wasn't nearly as popular as it had been. The paint was peeling, bricks crumbling. Right as she stepped on it, the entire structure creaked.

_Wow, dying on my way to a first day on the job. Now that would be depressing._

The gravel crunched underneath Elena's boots as she halted, then turned to watch behind her. Her apartment building was small in the distance, and her anxiety seemed to fade as she turned around, walking forward with a new purpose. It was like ripping off a band-aid, traveling to Toon Town; you just had to get it over with as quickly as possible.

And so, with that in mind, Elena walked. Then jogged. Then ran.

Right when she hit the halfway point, a jolt hit her body. It was like she momentarily ran into a brick wall; a sharp ache passed over her bones and her skin tingled. A wave of nausea made her groan slightly, but luckily, she didn't throw up.

The light was bright in her eyes, and for just one second, she was extremely disoriented. But eventually, her vision came back and she saw where she was standing.

Directly in front of her was Main Street, USA, leading into Toon Town.

Looking at animation from your own eyes and not through a TV screen was always extremely weird, and Elena had to glance down at herself. It was so strange, her skin was still the same color, her tank top and jeans as well as her hair. Maybe even a little sharper. It wasn't scary at all it was just… a little off-putting. Shaking her head, she started forward again, passing shouting cartoons and loud honking horns. Elena did her best to keep her head down, not even toons liked being stared at.

The club's bright lights danced back and forth in setting sun, inviting her in. Her nerves hit her with new force, like a parade of elephants in her stomach, and the brunette stopped just outside of the building.

"You got this, Martin." She muttered to herself, resisting the urge to start biting her nails and pushing on the door to walk inside.

The dining room didn't have guests inside yet, but that didn't mean it wasn't busy. Uniformed penguins ran back and forth, setting up tables and rolling up napkins around silverware. The sight of the small animals made Elena cock an eyebrow, but before she could be too confused, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

"You must be Elena!"

Sure enough, standing in front of her was Mickey Mouse. Even with his big, round ears, he barely reached Elena's waist. He was currently dressed in a smart tux that looked like it had been pressed and dry-cleaned, and his face was bright with hope as he stuck out a white-gloved hand.

"Yeah, that's me." Elena told him politely as she took it, hiding her surprise that a tiny, animated creature had such a firm handshake.

"It's so great to meet ya! I'm Mickey, we spoke on the phone!" He gestured around them, "I hope finding the place wasn't too hard!"

"No, not at all." She reassured him, unable to keep the smile off her face. He was so cheerful, and for some reason, it was the slightest bit refreshing.

"Well come on in, meet the gang!" He told her jovially, beckoning her into the club. As they walked, she noticed the penguins were nearly finished with preparations.

"So, first I want to introduce you to-"

His words were cut off by a sharp, loud bark and then a furry golden mass was in front of her, tail wagging furiously as his cold, wet nose pushed into her hands and legs, sniffing with vigor.

"No, Pluto! Down, boy!" Mickey cried, attempting to grab the dog's collar. But the mutt could not be deterred, still sniffing the newcomer to the club. Finally, he seemed to deem her ok because he barked again, slightly higher than last time and licked her hand.

"I'm so sorry, he's just real curious." Mickey apologized but Elena only smiled and dropped to a crouch in front of the dog. His tail wagged harder and she began scratching him behind the ears, and the mouse watched in amazement.

"No need to apologize, he's so sweet!" Elena reassured, unable to keep a straight face as Pluto rolled onto his back for a belly rub.

"Pluto, shoo! Go on!"

A new voice, still high and squeaky but with a definite feminine tone to it joined them. Elena looked up from the pet to see a female mouse running towards them, holding a clipboard and looking a little flustered.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized as Pluto got up and took off in another direction, "you must be Elena Martin! I'm Minnie!"

"Hi, it's very nice to meet you." Another firm handshake, Elena noted as the two greeted each other. Wow, what did they put in the water over here?

"I can't tell you how excited we are to see you!" Minnie told her, waving around them. "We're already understaffed as it is, and ever since we put in our new bar, it's been more rough than usual."

"How popular is the bar, if you don't mind me asking?" El wondered as the trio started for the far side of the club. Minnie shook her head and sighed as Mickey grimaced.

"We mostly put it in for the villains. They've been real restless since we stopped them from taking over the club just over a year ago, and we started gettin' nervous that they were planning something like that again. When we confronted them, they told us they'd give it a rest so long as there was a good bar. So," they finally came to a stop and Mickey gestured in front of them with a sigh.

It was actually an incredibly nice setup for a cartoon. A long, glass-looking bar top extended about ten feet in either direction, set up with red bar stools that lined underneath it. There was a mirror behind it, as there almost always was with bars, complete with glass shelves set up against it. Bottles of all different shapes and sizes were set up behind it, but El knew better. Those were all filled with colored water; no decent place kept their booze out in the open. It actually had a very dark, elegant look to it.

At the realization that she was, in fact, standing at a bar in a Disney created club almost made her giggle, but she swallowed it and turned back to the couple. As she did, she couldn't help but notice how far away the bar was from the rest of the club.

_That actually makes sense; drunk witches and dictators might get kind of riled up by the sight of their enemies._

"So, will it just be me?"

"Well, Goofy has been trying to manage the bar, but it's not goin' too good." Mickey told her, looking a little sheepish. As if on cue, there was a loud crash on the other side of the dining room that caused the trio to jump in surprise.

"Sorry!" A familiar cartoon dog yelled out from the floor, and two penguins shared a long suffering look before they shuffled off to help the toon character clean up the small pile of glass that was now scattered on the ground.

The couple turned back to Elena, their eyebrows raised to say, _see what we mean?_ The brunette couldn't help her giggle this time and nodded.

"Alright, I've been by myself during rush hour. I've got the experience."

"We've also got some tables they use for poker," Mickey told her, nodding at the three round tables sitting not too far to their left, "and the pool table. I'll just warn ya', though, both games can get pretty rowdy." He paused, eyebrows narrowing, his mouth drawing into a frown. "Now, are you sure you want to work here, Miss Martin? It's not exactly a typical job, so we understand if you don't want to take it."

Elena didn't respond. She merely set her bag down behind the bar and tied her hair up into a messy bun, bracing her hands on her hips.

"Is there a uniform?"


	3. CHAPTER TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, first night! Here we go!
> 
> Martini recipe and instructions courtesy of the movie A Simple Favor, which I absolutely do not own. This is a great time to throw out another disclaimer that I own Elena, Jason, and Maria. That's it.

It was officially seven o’clock.

Like the last nightclub she’d worked at, people were entering the second the doors were opened. They all seemed to go to tables with relative ease, so Elena could only guess that it was because they were all regulars.

The number of characters was overwhelming. People and animals she’d only seen on screen or in pictures were talking and laughing, greeting each other and settling down into tables. Even characters who originally died in their stories, like Mufasa, were fully present.

_I would have loved to meet Walt Disney,_ the young bartender thought, smiling just a little before returning to her duties.

Goofy had been incredibly helpful. Despite being a massive klutz, he knew the cocktails incredibly well. Plus, he’d shown her the cheat sheet he kept taped up by the glasses. It was a lot more drinks than she’d ever made before, but luckily the supplies hardly ever ran out (thank you, Disney magic), so Elena was actually pretty excited. Some of the drinks looked absolutely delicious.

The bar had been wiped down until it looked like the decorations were floating, the bottles behind her were artfully arranged. Frosted and chilled glasses, high profile alcohol, and bowls of cherries and olives in the small fridge behind her. Elena herself was also prepared; her long brown hair was pulled back into a bun, since an intricate hairstyle would just fall apart. She was in the House of Mouse uniform, which consisted of a black silk button down with quarter sleeves and a red vest pulled over it, a body con black skirt that ended about an inch above her knees, pantyhose and black heels.

It was a good and slightly weird thing that Mickey and Minnie kept a bunch of spare uniforms in the back.

“Hey there, Elena!”

The brunette snapped out of her musings to see Minnie standing there with a familiar character; Daisy. Both had nervous looks on their faces as they nodded at the bar. “You alright? Need anything?”

Elena smiled easily and shook her head. “No, but thanks, guys.” She paused, glancing over at the ever-growing crowd. “My guess is I won’t start getting patrons until later.”

Minnie just looked defeated while Daisy laughed. “You got that right!” She told the human girl jovially, then patted her arm. “You’ll do fine, Elena. If it gets to be too much, just let one of us know. Goofy and his son Max are both here tonight, so we could spare one if we needed to.”

Elena smiled, already making the mental goal to not need any assistance that night. She needed to show them she could perform well under pressure. “Thanks, you guys. I appreciate it, really.”

The girls couldn’t stay, as they both had their own laundry list of duties to perform that night. As time slowly ticked by, Elena started getting antsy. If she was going to deal with some harder patrons tonight, she wanted to get it over with.

Table thirteen was filling; she could already see blue flames, red and black cloaks, fur coats and actual furry legs from her spot. She found it a little shocking they weren’t at the bar, but then a younger voice made her look up.

“Hey, you must be Elena!”

Max was literally a younger version of Goofy, and he was kind of an adorable kid. Elena smiled at him, sticking out her hand.

“Yep, that’s me! What can I do for you, Max?”

“Table thirteen is requesting a round of martinis with their meal. I have to drop off the dinner order in the kitchen, but I’ll be back as soon as the drinks are done to take them over.”

“Round of martinis, coming up.”

The drinks weren’t hard. Elena wasn’t trying to brag, but she’d made a lot of martinis in her time. Table thirteen was a way’s away from the bar and it was hard to see everyone exactly, but she took some comfort in that. If it was hard to see them, then it was hard for them to see her.

Soon, a whole tray of carefully prepared drinks was on the bar. Not a moment too soon, either, since Max turned up right as she finished dropping the lemon twist into the gin.

“Here they are.” She told him, and Max nodded as he gingerly took the tray. He titled his head and turned back to her.

“Frozen glasses?”

“Yeah, I always do frozen glasses and frozen gin for my martinis.” Elena told him, then paused. “Why? Is that not allowed here?”

“Well, no, it’s just I don’t think me or my dad have ever done that before.” With that, he turned and walked off, balancing the tray on his shoulder.

_Oh, great. So, the villains will either like the drinks or they’ll walk over here and throw them on me._

Then again, it wouldn’t even be her worst shift.

Both thoughts made her smile, and she got back to cleaning up her work.

* * *

“Remind me why we’re here again?”

Table thirteen was, by all accounts, the hardest table for the staff at the House of Mouse. And all the inhabitants took pride and amusement in that fact. For one thing, the group only really met at the club every night for the company and the amusement that came with scaring the wait staff.

Also, (and none of them would admit it out loud) the food was pretty great.

But they had recently decided the club was worth it due to Mickey and Donald both swearing up and down that a bar would be put in, with an excellent selection of cocktails. Since quite a few of the villains enjoyed a smooth drink every once in a while, (and a few were just a step below functioning alcoholics) they were all willing to put a temporary pause on the scheming for a while. Despite being very, very annoying, Mickey Mouse always kept his word.

However, all it did was piss them off. The damn goof they had working the bar couldn’t make it ten steps without tripping and breaking something. Last week, he’d been attempting to deliver a glass of rum to Captain Hook and tripped, spilling it all over him. Several heroes ended up having to hold him back before he gutted the hopeless server.

But back to the story.

The flaming blue head of Hades looked around the table, eyebrows raised, and repeated the question. “I mean really, guys. The food’s so-so, but if I don’t start getting some good drinks in me soon, I might just start making my own.”

Jafar looked up from where he was observing his staff and rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Hades. You’ve been making that threat for the past few weeks. If you don’t follow through, the mouse will know you’re lying.”

“I’m _not._ ” The God of the Dead snarled, eyes blazing. “I could command one out of thin air, but it doesn’t have the same feel, ya know?”

“Relax.” Dr. Facilier told his ‘friend’ from the other side of the table. “I can already see Goof Jr. on his way with our drinks.”

“He should hurry up.” Cruella muttered, fluffing her coat in irritation. “I need a damn good martini if we’re going to play poker again tonight; you lot always cheat.”

“We actually don’t, Cruella.” Ursula shot from her seat, tauntingly waving a tentacle in a good-bye motion. “You’re just awful at it.”

The fur-clad woman opened her mouth for a comeback but was interrupted as Max carefully set the tray down on the edge of the table.

“Here we go. Round of martinis.” He began distributing them, and each villain noticed something immediately.

“Since when did you start freezing the glasses, kid?” Hades asked in surprise and a little suspicion. But Max only shook his head and gestured behind him to the bar. The group could see a uniformed waiter, but it was too crowded to get a good look at them.

“We have a new bartender. My dad and I aren’t there anymore.” His voice dropped down to where none of the villains could hear him. “Thankfully.”

“What was that, boy?” Scar asked from his seat, claws inching out smoothly. Max only shook his head and straightened, grabbing the tray and scurrying off while throwing an excuse about why the food was taking so long over his shoulder.

“New bartender, huh?” Hades studied the glass, “Let’s see what he’s made of.” He sipped the drink, then pulled it away, looking shocked.

“…that’s…decent.”

Cruella didn’t even look up from her glass as she finished it in under a minute, looking satisfied. “It’s not decent, it’s great! Thank goodness they’re finally using frozen gin, and the lemon is much better when it’s bigger.”

“Would you look at that,” Ursula remarked dryly as she put the glass down, “the mouse _can_ do something right.” She turned to the woman beside her, sitting in a black and purple robe. “Try it, Mal. You’ll like it.”

“I thought I asked you never to call me that.” Malificent growled out, but Ursula only slid the drink closer.

“You need alcohol, hun.”

The Mistress of all Evil rolled her eyes at the chuckles from the group, but took the glass gingerly, drinking it in silence.

“Gotta admit,” Dr. Facilier remarked as he finished another sip, “looks like the new guy knows what he’s doing. I think I’d like another one after this is done, and that’s rare.”

“Well, where is he?” Gaston demanded impatiently, craning his weirdly large neck to see the bar. “There’s too many people in here, I can’t even see!”

“I think one of us should go over there.” Hades suggested smoothly, yellow eyes looking around the table as he smirked. “Y’know, to get a feel for him. I haven’t tortured a staff member in ages.”

Captain Hook looked up from his already empty glass. “Agreed! I haven’t seen anyone afraid of me hook in too long.” He looked around the table. “Well, who wants to do it?”

“You suggested it, Hades.” Ursula told the god with an eyeroll, “So _you_ go.”

“Ah, no. I’ve got a drink to finish. Let one of the alcoholics here have at it.”

Cruella, Gaston, and Hook all looked up from their empty glasses, and then at each other. Glares and intimidation between the three didn’t appear to be getting them anywhere.

“Alright, fine.” Hook stood up from his seat, polishing his hook on the side of his coat. “I’ll be happy to be the one who makes him scream.”

The rest of the group watched as he sauntered over, and Cruella turned back to Malificent.

“Are you going to finish that?”

“Yes.”

* * *

Elena had only just finished cleaning up the supplies when her elbow knocked a lemon off the table, sending it rolling. A quiet curse left her lips, and she crouched down to search for it.

“The freaking thing rolled into another dimension.” She whispered, eyes narrowed as she tried to spot the yellow offender.

* * *

Hook stopped at the bar, confused and annoyed. Where was the bartender? He could see a beige messenger bag sitting behind it, but no one was to be found.

He tapped his hook on the glass, enjoying the screeching and clacking that followed. “Bartender? Oi!”

* * *

“Ah ha!” Her brown eyes fell on the bright yellow fruit, wedged under the far part of the bar, and she knelt on the floor, stretching her hand out. Her fingers brushed against the fruit, and then she managed to nudge it closer to her hand right as a clacking noise on the bar nearly made her smack her head.

“Bartender? Oi!”

Elena fought the scowl off of her face as she wiggled back and finally stood, forcing a polite look onto her face.

“Can I help you?”

* * *

Hook nearly gutted the person the voice belonged to, jumping violently. One second he was staring at the mirror behind the bar, (and admiring how well his mustache looked) and then a young girl with long brown hair and light brown eyes was in front of him, looking slightly unimpressed.

“Can I help you?”

The pirate couldn’t fight the surprise on his face. Who was _this?_ Surely it wasn’t the person who’d mixed their drinks. The girl was beautiful, but _young._ She looked like she could barely hold any alcohol in her thin frame, let alone know how to make such a hard-hitting martini.

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m looking for the barkeep, lass. Have you seen him?”

The same annoyed look flashed over the girls pretty face, and she tossed a lemon in her hand into the trash before turning back to him and folding her arms. “Yeah, that’d be me. Now, how can I help you, sir?”

Hook actually spluttered, eyes widening. “ _You?_ You’re the bartender?”

He could already tell by the incredibly irritated expression that was growing more intense over her face that this was a frequently asked question.

“Yes, I am. Sir, was there something wrong with your drink?”

“Well…no.” He tried to come up with something, he really did, but the captain was so shocked he found it hard to come up with a convincing lie right on the spot. “I wanted to know who made the damn thing, honestly.” He looked her over again, then chuckled. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting a teenager.”

“I’m not a teenager.” She told him in a deadpan voice, “I’m over twenty-one. Not that it matters in here, but in the real world that means I’m legally allowed to serve alcohol and drink it.”

“You look like you don’t even know what rum tastes like.”

“And you definitely smell like you do.”

Her insult made the amused smirk drop from his face, and he leaned forward, lips curling into a scowl. “I’d watch my tone if I were you, deary. I could gut ye right here and now.”

“Yeah, but you won’t.” She told him flippantly, then raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m pretty sure you’ve finished your drink. Would you like another?”

Hook paused, then slid into his seat.

“Show me how you make them like that, then, lass.”

* * *

Elena’s heart was beating so loud and hard, she was positive the pirate across from her could hear it. But she continued to keep a cool, detached look on her face as she gathered her supplies for another martini.

_Awfully ironic that I accuse Jay of being suicidal and here I am, smart-mouthing literal villains,_ she thought wryly. Soon, she had large martini glass, frozen gin, a large lemon, and a knife in front of her.

“Alright. So, frozen glass and frozen gin.” She instructed matter-of-factly, the captains eyes following her movements as she pointed at both objects. “You do a splash of vermouth,” she dumped a small amount of the wine into the glass, “swirl it, then dump it.” She dumped the glass into the sink, then grabbed the gin. “Add your gin,” she filled the large glass almost to the edge, “then cut a generous lemon twist. Squeeze it over the glass, outside out,” she pressed the edges of the twist together, spritzing the juice over the drink, “creating a nice mist. Then,” she swiped the lemon around the top edges of the glass, “lick the edges. And there you go.”

She slid the drink across the bar towards him, smiling pleasantly. “Anything else?”

* * *

Hades wasn’t sure what he was expecting when Hook returned, but the pirate sipping another martini while simultaneously looking both appalled and a little pissed wasn’t at the top of the list.

“Where have you been?” Gaston demanded, “What did he say?”

“Well, how was it? You were over there for a while.” Hades asked, chuckling to himself. But Hook only dropped into his seat, face still slack with shock.

“It’s a lass.”

Ursula looked up from her meal, eyebrows raised. “And a woman can’t make a martini? Why are you so shocked, Hooky?”

“It’s not _that,_ sea witch. It’s just that she’s so… _young._ ”

“How old?”

“I thought she couldn’t have been more than seventeen, but she told me she was in her twenties.” He paused, then shook his head. “If she hadn’t made the drink right in front of me, I would have thought she lied about it. The deary looks like she can barely hold down a glass of wine.”

“Huh.” Hades glanced over at the bar. He still couldn’t see much, but he could see a messy brown bun bobbing and moving throughout the bar. “I think we should give her more of a challenge next time.”

“What kind of challenge do you have in mind?”

Yellow eyes narrowed, and a smirk pulled at his lips as he picked up his own drink.

“The girl can make a nice martini, right? Let’s see how many cocktails she can bang out in a night without cracking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elena: *Literally just trying to work and live her life*
> 
> Villains: Let's mess with that as much as possible lmao
> 
> So, how did I do? Next chapter, Elena meets the rest of table thirteen and shows them what she'd made of. I hope I wrote everyone correctly, some of them are incredibly hard to nail down! And not to fret, our main character will have tons and tons of interactions in the future with all of table thirteen, and other villains as well.
> 
> Let me know how you liked it!


	4. CHAPTER THREE

You know, it’s said that your first three shifts at a new job are the hardest.

Getting to know the layout of your new building/area, learning the location of all the supplies you’ll need, finding the breakroom, getting to know your coworkers, etc. It could all be confusing and incredibly stressful.

Elena had been working since she was fourteen years old. That meant she had started a new job four times. She had worked for a house cleaning agency for two years until she turned sixteen, then she worked at Old Navy for the paycheck/insurance benefits, and then, when she had turned eighteen, she had worked at a bar down the street from her old house in Iowa because they didn’t bother to ask her real age and paid her under the table. One year ago, she became a coach at her current gym. And now, at twenty-one, she was starting this new job at the House.

After making it through that first shift, Elena had showed up for work the next night feeling extremely optimistic and even a little energetic. She felt ready to take on anything.

But here’s one very, very important fact:

_Elena Martin had never had to deal with table thirteen._

So, she had no idea what was in store for her when she got to work that night.

It was an hour into opening and she was finishing some bottle sorting when Max ran up to her, out of breath and looking terrified. It was toon version, meaning his chest was heaving at a comical level. Elena actually had to swallow her laughter.

“What’s up-“

“It’s table thirteen!” He wheezed out, bracing his hands on his knees. “They just gave a huge drink order! They all want cocktails!”

Elena raised an eyebrow at him, confused at his terror. _Was this their version of rush hour or…?_

“Ok, so I’ll start making their cocktails-“

“No, El, they each ordered three cocktails _each._ And they want them all before they’re done with their entrées!”

Elena looked up from where she was gathering the glasses, then shook her head. “Well, then they’re going to be disappointed.”

Max stopped dead, his eyes going wide and his jaw nearly hitting the floor. “But-but Elena, if we don’t get them their drinks, they’re going to start coming over here and causing trouble!”

Elena merely started gathering her supplies, face serious. “Well, I’m not an octopus and I’m not a witch. If they start giving you grief, you send them over here. I’ll deal with it.”

Max looked like he wanted to argue, or maybe beg her to see sense, but then Cinderella started waving him down, and he let his hands fall to his sides, face paling slowly as the gravity of the situation hit him.

But he had work to do, and he left. Elena glanced down at the paper, grabbing the ingredients as her eyes trailed over the words.

“Ok, first round: Bad Juju, Hatred, Burly and Brawny, Crazed Captain, All Powerful, Unfortunate Soul and Seeing Spots.”

The first six drinks were semi-easy. Layering the different alcohol together without mixing them had her cursing a little and required some scrapped first drafts, but she had them together and on the serving tray. She watched Max run over to table thirteen twice, attempting to calm the villains that were no doubt being incredibly difficult. Elena sent up a prayer that they’d chill out once they had a drink in them.

The Hatred was easily the hardest one, mostly because it literally had to be set on fire. By the time she had topped off the Bacardi 151, Max was scurrying towards her, looking extremely downtrodden.

“Elena, they’re starting to get difficult. How close are you?”

She grabbed a box of matches, nodding at the tray. “The first round is ready. You’ll need the matches; the Hatred has to be lit right before it’s they start drinking or the glass will get way too hot.”

As the teen started for the tray, Elena saw his shaking hands. She thought about the grown adults, (and gods, and animals) at table thirteen that were giving all that trouble. Biting her lip, she stopped him.

“Wait, Max, I’ll take it.”

The teen halted in his movements, hesitating. “You sure, Elena? They can be kinda…”

“It’s fine, Max. I’ll handle them the rest of the night, don’t worry.”

Some color returned to the poor kids face, and he happily handed the tray over. “Ok, I’m gonna run back to the kitchen for their entrées! Thanks, El!” And then he was gone.

Elena glanced back down at the tray, and rolled her neck, breathing deeply.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

* * *

“Well, I think I’m a genius.”

Dr. Facilier didn’t bother to hide his eyeroll. In his hands were some cards. They were all currently in a game of poker, mostly to use as an excuse for being there so they could torture the new bartender. Scar was sitting in his spot, having finished his appetizer and watching the group around him with an unimpressed look.

“Yes, Hades,” Ursula agreed sarcastically, not looking up from her hand. “You’re the best and the brightest.”

“I don’t get the sarcasm,” the Greek god told her in a deadpan voice, “you seemed to like the idea last night.”

“Because I thought I was going to get to see some tripping, some tears, maybe even a nervous breakdown.” She shot back. She turned to gesture to the bar with one of her tentacles. Shockingly enough, it was empty from what they could see. “We haven’t even heard a peep from over there! She hasn’t even broken any glasses.”

“I agree,” Maleficent chimed in from her spot next to Cruella, “if something doesn’t happen soon, I won’t be wasting much more time here. I have better things to do.”

Cruella snickered. “What do you have to do that’s so important, Mal?”

“It’s none of your concern, Cruella. And certainly more important than deciding what dress to make next.”

“ _It’s a fashion business!”_ Cruella hissed, eyes blazing.

“Holy hell,” Hades groaned, his blue flame flaring red in irritation for a short second, “can you two just-“

“Cocktails for table thirteen.”

The entire argument died in a second. Standing at their table was a young woman, in her late teens or early twenties. Thick brown hair was pulled up into a bun at the back of her head, heart shaped face pulled into a blank expression. Balanced on her hand was a tray filled with colorful glasses.

While the table was still too shocked to speak, she began distributing the cocktails, merely asking which drink belonged to who. It wasn’t until she finally went to light the Hatred in front of Hades that he came to his senses and counted the glasses around them.

“Um, babe?”

“My name is Elena.” She responded simply.

“Right. Sweetness, you seem to be down by quite a few drinks.” He gestured to the fact that most of the villains only had one cocktail in front of them. “I believe we told Goof Jr. that we wanted all three cocktails at the same time.”

“Well,” she started, leaning down to light the drink on fire. “You also demanded the cocktails be served before your entrées got here. So, if you want the other two at the same time, you’ll probably have to wait.” Without looking away from his gaze, she raised the match to her lips and blew it out, then turned around to walk away.

The shocked silence continued, but Hades hair was slowly turning red and orange.

“Well,” the Shadow Man observed smoothly, looking extremely amused as he sipped his drink, “I believe our new little bartender doesn’t want to play the game.”

“She doesn’t get a choice!” Hades thundered, then took a deep breath, hair dying back down to blue. “Look, we can’t let anybody talk to us like that. We need to teach her a lesson.”

“I don’t believe _we_ need to do anything.” Jafar chimed in, eyes still on his (currently winning) hand. “This was your plan, Hades. Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“Agreed. The lass is backed behind the counter; go show us that flaming intimidation.” Hook smirked, and Hades scowled.

“Fine. I will.”

* * *

_Holy shit holy shit holy shit!_

It was the only phrase going through Elena’s head as she walked back over to the bar, her heart thundering in her ears. _What the hell was that?_ It was a very stupid decision, talking to them like that. They could have done any number of things to her right on the spot. Incinerated her, eviscerated her, ripped out her throat and picked her skin clean from her bones. And Elena was _very_ different from her younger twin, she didn’t talk back to people who could kill her just because she felt like it ‘wasn’t right’.

But Elena _loathed_ being spoken to like that. After working in the service industry for most of her life now, she learned what was worth putting up with and what wasn’t. The other villains just wanted their drinks, that was obvious. And she was more than happy to ply them with alcohol and keep them happy. But Hades was a different story; it was pretty clear-cut that this big plan to overwhelm her was his idea. And she didn’t appreciate that, not in the slightest. So, as she walked over there, she’d made a decision: She wasn’t going to play the game.

Stopping behind the bar, she glanced at the paper again for the next list of cocktails and started gathering the supplies.

“Excuse me, there, sweetheart.”

Despite the jump her heart made in her chest at the threat of the god, Elena’s eyes nearly rolled back into her skull before she turned around, forcing a polite expression onto her face.

“Yes, sir. How may I help you?”

The God of the Dead narrowed his eyes at her, clutching his flaming drink, and slid onto a bar stool. “You got some serious guts, talking to me like that.”

“I apologize if I insulted you.” She responded blankly, still working on the new round of cocktails.

Hades looked even more frustrated, as he’d probably caught onto the fact that she was messing with him. “Don’t patronize me, babe. You know I could turn you into a pile of ash.”

“You gonna do that before or after you throw back that drink?”

Hades looked back down at the glass in front of him, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Did you poison it?”

“How could I poison a god?” She asked eyebrows raising at the dumb question and her polite façade slipping. He smirked.

“There it is.”

“Look, how about this?” She stopped her task, turning around to fully face him and brace her hands on the bar. “You like making deals, right?”

Hades raised his eyebrows, folding his arms and leaning on the bar as well. “Lay it on me, sweetness.”

“Ok; I’m getting the rest of the cocktails ready. If you hate the one in front of you or any of the others after, I’ll happily give you a complaint card to fill out.”

His eyebrows narrowed. “How does that help me? I complain all the time.”

Elena cocked an eyebrow as she turned to grab a bottle of vodka. “I’m sure you do…”

“What was that?”

“Anyway,” she turned back around, playing off her muttered insult, “it’s only my second night. How bad would it make me look to Donald and Mickey if I already had a complaint against me?”

“And what if I don’t hate them?”

“If you actually like my cocktails, then you never pull something like this again for as long as I’m employed here. No games, no trying to cause me to have a nervous breakdown, _nothing._ ”

The god stopped, thinking it over slowly as he swirled his drink. Finally, a smirk came over his face. “Ok, you got yourself a deal.” Setting the glass down, he stuck his hand out. “Shake on it?”

Without even tearing her eyes away from his, she grabbed it and shook it firmly.

* * *

So, for the next four hours, the drinks kept coming. All sorts, too. Different kinds of whiskey, tequila, Bacardi, everything the club had to offer. Most of the villains called it a night after the second cocktail. However, Cruella was soon passed out after her fourth martini. Elena helped her two henchmen, Jasper and Horace, take the woman to her car so they could drive her home. Maleficent also called it a night after her first one was finished along with her food, bidding the bartender a cool farewell and gracefully leaving the club.

Hook also had to be dragged out, (and Elena had to slap his hands away from her hair several times) by Elena, Smee, and a few members of his crew. If she had more time, Elena would have marveled for longer at the ship. Up against the night sky, it looked so beautiful.

Gaston, to his credit, managed to stumble out on his own two feet. However, Elena had to give most of that credit to La Foue. For such a tiny man, he could handle the large hunter quite well.

Ursula was definitely tipsy when she finally left, throwing some snide comments at the remaining members of table thirteen. Scar followed soon after, ignoring the bartender just as much as he had before.

Soon, it was down to Jafar, Dr. Facilier, and Hades. The Shadow Man and the sorcerer both closed their tabs off and left, Jafar merely nodding at her and Facilier throwing her a wink as they both left out the doors.

It was closing by the time Hades was back at the bar, looking frustrated. Elena looked up from where she was wiping some glasses down and then let her eyes flicker back to her task as she spoke.

“So, should I get that complaint card? You don’t _look_ drunk.”

“Easy there, hot stuff, I’m a _god_. I don’t get easily drunk. I could blow through this entire bar and still walk out of here upright.”

The brunette held her hands up in a surrendering motion and Hades scowled at her.

“Look, just because you can make a cocktail that doesn’t make me want to puke doesn’t mean I in anyway like you, so let’s get that straight.”

“Got it.”

“But I stick to my deals. So, you keep these drinks coming, and I won’t flush you out. How’s that sound?”

She paused in her chores, turning back to him with a thoughtful gaze. “Fine. How’d you tip me?”

“I tipped you. Be grateful, cause I don’t normally do that. But adding Bacardi 151 to that first cocktail really brought it up a notch. Why don’t you keep that up, sweetness?”

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

By the time the club had closed down, Elena’s neck was aching and her feet were killing her. Stepping outside into the warm night, she nearly jumped six feet in the air when she heard her name.

“Hey, El! Need a ride?”

Max and Goofy were both heading back to their car, and Goofy gestured to it with his keys. “We pass by the bridge on our way home, it’s no problem.”

“No, that’s fine.” Elena waved him off, nodding behind her. “It’s warm out, and I like the walk home.”

The older toon looked unsure, but finally nodded. “Alright-y, then. We’ll see ya tomorrow night!”

Right as Lena finally passed back into the real world, her phone went off. Digging into her bag she pulled it out, smiling at the name. “Hey, Jay. What are you doing up?”

_“Well, since you get out at like one in the morning, I wanted to check in on you.”_ He paused, and she could hear him shuffling around. _“How was your second night?”_

Lena paused, glancing back the bridge and smiling into the phone. “You know what? It wasn’t too bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to comment and kudos, thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you want to see more!


End file.
